


Shades of Royalty

by captainmarvel (DramionesLady)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Black Panther (2018), Captain Marvel (2019), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Maria Hill, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Infinity War, Infinity War fun, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, POV Multiple, Post-Black Panther (2018), Shuri loves Memes, the occasional comic reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-03-18 16:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13685388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramionesLady/pseuds/captainmarvel
Summary: Infinity War.That's a whole lot of egos.





	1. The Princess and The God

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw Black Panther yesterday, and it was incredible! It has me even more excited for Infinity War, if that's possible.  
> At the same time though, I'm expecting sadness when Avengers comes out, so I wanted to write something fun!  
> Soon to be Canon Divergent of course, but here's what happens when heroes collide!  
> MINOR BLACK PANTHER SPOILERS!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I realise that Tony sells Avengers tower in Spider-Man: Homecoming, but for ease of writing have chosen to ignore that little point haha!

A man with an eyepatch proclaiming to be the God of something stood before T’Challa.

Shuri watched with interest, leaning against a pillar in Stark Tower, as the two seemed to size each other up.

She had the nagging urge to point to this white guy’s face and tell him he had something on it.  He was covered in mud, and it was caked to his neck, seeping into his hair.  Her eyes darted to the spaceship from which he’d just disembarked.  It had nothing on the new fleet of assistance-jets she’d been designing for their global outreach programme.  Whoever’d designed it had obviously never heard of subtlety.  It was a garish, bulky thing, that’d made a hideous noise when it landed.

If this man was a God as he proclaimed, why was he parading as the cartoon definition for a pirate? Back home, she’d have him healed in minutes.   _Interesting choice for a God_.   Shuri resisted voicing any of these thoughts, and instead settled for a disapproving click of her tongue.  She saw her brother’s ears move in a way that let her know, even with his back to her, that he was smiling at the sound.  

“You seem unimpressed,” the voice startled Shuri.  Turning, she saw it was that insect-boy, who looked even younger than her.  He was wearing his special suit, the cowl down so she could see his face.  _That suit needs the Shuri-touch_ , she thought with a grin.

“One does not simply impress a Wakandan,” she replied, nonchalant, turning back to the encounter before her.

In truth, the past 24 hours had been something of a whirlwind.  She’d been at home with a rapidly-healing Sergeant Barnes yesterday when that purple _thing_ had come into range of their satellites, and now they were in New York City, surrounded by masked heroes at every turn.  

The Black Panther she was used to, and she was proud of her brother, at the Wakanda he showed to the world, but all these people? People who spoke over each other in many voices, and who she suspected had all come from homes much less forgiving than hers, with their layered motives and crippling egos?  People that she’d never imagined existing, no more real than any cartoon?

Some of them weren’t even _people_ , for Bast’s sake! The pirate-god had picked up an entourage that included a racoon and a tree! And that hadn’t even been the strangest part of her day.

Iron Man had given her access to his lab.

She’d seen the Black Widow playing chess with the warrior they called the Valkyrie (the latter of the two and Okoye had given each other approving glances at each other’s armour).

The last she’d seen of Captain Rogers, he and a recently-reunited Bucky had been trying and failing to catch a quiet moment alone, but had been ambushed by a very confused, and very starstruck man who introduced himself as ‘Star-Lord’, and was parading around in a funky ’80s cosplay.  

Shuri’s head was buzzing with the influx of information, she had a thousand ideas on updates for practically every fighter’s gear in the vicinity.  

“One does not…” Spider-man started to repeat.  _Peter_ , Shuri remembered, roused from her rollercoaster of thoughts, _that’s his name_.  She’d met so many people in the past few hours.  “Are you quoting the Mordor meme at me?” Shuri looked back at him in surprise.  _Huh, this could be fun_.

Catching a reference was a surefire way to get on the track to her royal approval.  T’Challa often laughed at this oddly-specific standard of hers.  It hadn’t failed her yet though.  _Maybe that’s why I don’t trust these aliens,_ she mused _, no common meme-ground_. She laughed to herself at the sheer weirdness of the thought.  Peter looked rather pleased with himself.  _Ah, he thought I was laughing at him.  I hope he doesn’t misunderstand me_.  The bold girl in the florescent Converse boots he’d arrived at the tower with, MJ, was more her speed.  She’d seemed about as unaffected by all this as Shuri was pretending to be.  She wondered where she’d wandered off to.

Shuri gave Peter a small grin and excused herself with an apology that would even satisfy her mother’s etiquette standards, walking forwards until she was level with T’Challa.

Time to meet this pirate-god for herself.

“Thor, I am honoured to present my little sister, Princess Shuri of Wakanda,” T’Challa said, all formalities.  _No wonder the elders love him so much_.  “Shuri, this is Thor Odinson, King of Asgard, God of Thunder.” She knew the stories about him, of course.  Had followed along avidly, in fact, when Dr. Foster had published her work on the ‘Peculiarities of New Mexico’, and read between the lines even then.  She’d seen the footage.  New York. London. Sokovia.  

But face to face with him, this apparent god, all that came from her mouth was, “You’ve cut your hair.  Is it to match the aesthetic of the eye-patch?” T’Challa made a choking noise, grasping onto Shuri’s arm.  Thor looked at her, brows drawn tightly together for a second in examination, then threw his head back, letting out a rumbling laugh that sent static electricity skittering down Shuri’s neck.  _Thunderous indeed_.  

“I like this one, brother Panther,” Thor boomed to T’Challa, his tone jovial.  His accent reminded Shuri of her Baba’s English impersonation.  The parallel made her smile.  Thor held out his hand for Shuri to shake, and she grasped it firmly, determined not to be the first to breakaway.  

“ _This one_ has about fifty improvements to make to your little costume,” Shuri retorted.  “You can’t go to battle dressed like a pirate that’s been shipwrecked.”  Thor gave an awkward grin at this, almost sheepish, as if realising his mistake in talking about Shuri as if she weren’t present.  

“Lead the way, your highness,” Thor said apologetically.  T’Challa stepped back, smirking as he allowed his sister to take control, watching as she marched away with a God in tow.  

“And brother!” She called back to him, “bring the trickster with the antlers from the ship too, I can’t bear to look at that fancy-dress for any longer.”  Thor’s laughter reverberated along the hallways of the tower.  

Shuri was already forming a dozen possible designs in her head.  Stark’s lab wasn’t as savvy as hers, but she could make it work.  

Turning the corner, she saw MJ, who gave her a nod of recognition.  Shuri felt a flutter in her chest, managing just about to bow her head quickly in return.  Thor looked between the two of them with curiosity.  Shuri gave him a stare that dared him to say something.  

The princess and the God got into the elevator.

“Laboratory,” Shuri instructed.

“Right away, your highness,” The lilting voice of Tony’s AI replied.

 _This was going to be fun_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know who you'd like to see interact! :)


	2. The Spy and The Billionaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The situation in Stark's Lab

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun with this chapter, enjoy!

Maria Hill had been anticipating this day since the Battle of New York.

The day that every costumed hero the planet had to offer would be under one roof.  _Not just the planet's heroes, the galaxy’s_ , she realised. What she hadn't seen coming was her role as a babysitter.  She had been sat watching Stark, who was deep in conversation with a raccoon that called himself ‘Rocket’, for the past _three hours_.  As if that wasn’t strange enough, she was being watched intently by an angst-ridden tree named Groot. 

_What the fuck is my life._

Maria rubbed a hand over her face in frustration, as if trying to wipe away the surreal scene before her.  It’d been a long 24 hours since Thanos had rocked into existence on their satellites.  Tony had been frantically pacing ever since, the mania on his face stirred into a frenzy by his near-hourly caffeine breaks.  She didn’t know how Pepper put up with it, in all honesty.  Maria wished that she was here, but she and Happy were stuck dealing with the business side of things at the Avengers compound Upstate.

Apparently a looming apocalypse called for a lot of paperwork.  Tony had insisted on sending an Avenger with them, so Pepper had agreed to a freshly returned-to-Earth Banner, to ease Stark’s mind.  Because apparently that was also a thing she had to contend with now, people Maria had helped recruit just gallavanting around space for a few years.

Even with Pepper under Banner's protection, Maria could practically feel the buzz of Tony’s anxiety from the other side of lab.  His head was constantly shifting back and forth between the holo-screens he had set shining from every available surface, monitoring every satellite he could get access to.  No movement from Thanos, it seemed.  At the same time, he was making adjustments to one of his suits and babbling away to Rocket, who had taken up residence in front of a workbench, and was tending to a rusty looking gun.  

Fury would be laughing his head off if he could see his Deputy now.  He had disappeared to acquire some ‘backup’ a number of hours ago, and Maria hadn’t seen him since.  He hadn’t even told her _who_ he was going to get.  She’d tried to hide the effect his deceit had on her, but given the way Nat had patted her on the shoulder earlier, she wasn’t doing a great job of it.  Then again, it could have simply been a touch in sympathy for her assignment with Tony.  After all, she’d heard Natasha rant about him frequently when she was undercover at his side.    

“…think that’ll work you’re a damned fool,” Maria caught Rocket saying.  Stark huffed in disbelief, using a screwdriver to scratch the back of his neck.

“Listen up _Tom Nook_ , if you think you’re such a genius, go ahead. On this planet, people listen to my ideas,” Tony said.  Maria sensed a headache coming on.  _Motherfucking Fury,_ telling her to keep an eye on him.  She was going to strangle him with his own eyepatch if he didn’t get back soon.  

“Well, thank Xandar I’m not from this planet, with numbskulls like you getting all the attention,” Rocket retorted, climbing onto the workstation in front of him, hefting a gun onto his shoulder.  Maria resisted the desire to bash her head against the wall.  

“If you’re all I can expect from outer space, thank God I was born right here,” Tony replied, turning to face Rocket with a flourish, waving his screwdriver around with a bit of a crazed look on his face.

“Why you piece a-“

“Shut up!” Maria snapped, getting to her feet.  She could see Groot out of the corner of her eye, watching with his mouth wide, as if this was all happening on a TV drama.  “What is wrong with you two, there’s a purple megalomaniac just hovering on the edge of the atmosphere, waiting to strike, and the two of you are having a pissing contest over the best way to load a gun! Neither of you are right,” she added, drawing her own gun from its holster.

“ _This_ is the best way,” Maria said, making a few rapid movements.  She let out a sigh of irritation.  “Now, will you both be quiet for two seconds?”  Mercifully, the room fell silent.  _That was a bit too easy…_ Maria thought _._   Tony and Rocket were looking at her as if she’d sprouted horns.  Tony had his hands up in a surrendering gesture, whilst Rocket lowered his gun, and Maria couldn’t see why until she followed his gaze to her hand.  She was gesturing at them with her now loaded Glock.  _Whoops.  Well, that’s one way to silence narcissists_.

Maria clicked the safety on and returned her gun to its holster, shaking her head.  

“That’s certainly a hardcore method, Hill,” Stark smirked.  Rocket let out a derisive noise, somewhere between disdain and amusement.  A shadow came over her vision, and she turned to see Groot standing at her side, offering something to her from his hand.  Maria took a step forwards, looking closer.  A single blue flower rested in his palm, and he held it aloft with a bashful look on his face.  Maria took it with an awkward smile of thanks, turning back to see Stark and Rocket looking at each other, hiding laughter like schoolboys, suddenly the best of friends.  Groot beamed in satisfaction.  

“Looks like you’ve found yourself an admirer, missy,” Rocket said, jumping down from the workstation and coming to stand before her.  “If my pal here likes you, that’s good enough for me.” To Maria’s surprise, he held out a hand—or was it paw?—for her to shake.  She shook it firmly, emboldened by this accidental breakthrough.  Not that she’d be telling Fury it was unplanned.  If he ever showed up again.  God, all she wanted now was a drink and rant with Nat.

The alarm to the elevator pinged, signalling its imminent arrival.  Tony glanced quizzically at Maria and Rocket, but both of them were as nonplussed as he was.

The doors slid open with a ‘swoosh’, revealing Shuri and Thor.  Everyone in the lab visibly relaxed at the friendly faces.

Maria still wasn’t used to seeing Thor like this, with the short hair and eyepatch, as if he were playing dress-up as Fury.  The thought made a laugh come bubbling forth from her, as she imagined the God of Thunder in Fury’s trench coat.

 

***       

    

“Stark! Lady Hill! And Groot and Rocket too, how fantastic,” Thor boomed, as if it’d been years since he’d seen them, rather than hours.  He marched forwards, arms thrown wide as if he wanted to embrace them all.  Shuri noticed that Stark backed up, as if retreating from an excitable puppy.    

“I’ve come to work on some armour upgrades,” Shuri announced to the room at large, with a confidence she hoped rang true.  She held her head high, looking from person to person in front of her, daring them to resist.  There was a restless energy building in her, and she almost wished for confrontation just to expel some of it.  No resistance came, though.  There had to be a target range somewhere in this building, surely? _My gauntlets and a few explosions would do the trick right about now._

“The Vibranium and stuff your brother sent is in that chest,” Hill said, gesturing to a streamlined case positioned along the back wall of the lab.  Shuri nodded her thanks and approached it with glee, trying to brush off the feeling of (literal) alien eyes following her movements.  Thor kept up a steady stream of chatter, talking to everyone and no-one, as she unlocked the case and started to unpack her equipment.  It was slightly hard to concentrate considering she had an audience, with both Tony and Rocket observing with interest what she was doing.  

“T’Challa tells me you have lost your hammer,” she said, doing her best to ignore the onlookers.  

“Yes Princess, Mjølnir is no longer in my possession,” a strange expression passed over Thor’s face as he said this.  Shuri hummed an affirmation, tapping on her Kimoyo beads to bring up the preliminary blueprint she’d sketched out for Thor on the flight from Wakanda. 

“According to Bruce, _Point Break_ , your hammer went boom,” Stark said, with the subtlety of a bullet, tapping out a few commands on a screen until music came blaring from the speakers.  Shuri heard a sigh from Maria Hill, saw the shake of her head in disbelief.  Shuri smiled, feeling a little more at home with a song to accompany her work.

“Yes,” Thor said simply, voice uncharacteristically quiet, the word almost swallowed by the beeps of lab machinery, and the drumbeat of the music.  

“And you think you can make a new one of these?” Rocket said, clambering onto the chair next to Shuri, expression doubtful.

She turned to the little creature, watching the longing in his eyes as he studied her plans, “I know I can make one of these,” Shuri replied.  

“I don’t suppose you have one to spare, do you?” a new voice asked, in a complimentary tone.  

“Brother,” Thor said, and Shuri turned to see Loki exiting the elevator.  He’d apparently ditched T’Challa on the way down. Shuri tried to not let that concern her.  

“Oh great,” Maria muttered, and Shuri watched her stalk to Tony’s side, and grab him by the arm.  “Let’s go, Stark.”

Tony was staring at Loki in disbelief, as if he'd just announced a one-man performance of _Roger That!: The Captain America Musical!_.  He shook his head, and Maria threw her hands up in defeat.

“Fine, suit yourself, but I’m not hanging around to witness this chaos,” she strolled to the elevator without a backwards glance, pointedly ignoring Loki as they crossed paths. “Groot, you’re in charge.  Keep them in line,” she said, and with that the doors closed, and Maria was gone. 

“I am Groot,” Groot said, nudging Rocket, looking pleased with himself.  

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Rocket replied.  

Shuri looked around, wondering if that made sense to anyone but the raccoon.  Tony and Loki were glaring at each other, with Thor looking between the two of them.  Shuri could swear thunder crackled across his brow as he did so.  Either that, or she was more tired than she thought.  

She clapped her hands together twice, a call to attention.  Miraculously, it got everyone to look at her.  “Right now, I don’t care about your past fights.  We’ve got work to do, haven't we? Shall we get prepared for this battle?” Shuri said, hoping that some of her brother’s leadership skills had transferred to her by osmosis.  

“Time to get to work,” Stark agreed.  Shuri gave him a nod of appreciation.  _Time to work, indeed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter :) Let me know if there's any interactions you'd like to see!
> 
> Hmm.. who could Fury be going to collect? ;)


	3. The King and The Warriors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booze and bonding

T'Challa blinked in confusion.

Not two seconds ago he had been escorting Loki to the labs at Shuri's request, he was certain of it. But now someone was snapping their fingers in front of his face, as if trying to stir him from a trance.  He looked up to see a woman in full armour, peering down at him with a puzzled expression on her face.  

T’Challa jumped to his feet, scanning the corridor, trying to see where Loki was.  

“If you’re looking for that cretin Trickster, you won’t find him,” the woman said, her mouth twisting into a grimace.  T’Challa knew that Thor had introduced them, but her name was evading him.  “He must’ve put a spell on you, you’ve been sat like that since I passed you five minutes ago, to retrieve these,” At this she gestured to the crate of alcohol she had slung under her arm as if it weighed no more than a feather.  “I thought I’d better check on you, they tell me you’re a king.” Her voice told him nothing of how she felt about this.  

“But, where has he gone? I told my sister…” T’Challa started, but he was interrupted by a noncommittal noise from the woman.  

“He reached the lab, Maria Hill informed us,” she said, not in a reassuring voice, but as if to minimise the amount of time they had to spend interacting.

T’Challa had vague memories of Maria Hill, he’d met her before the day of that fated UN meeting.  He felt his jaw clench reflexively, as if to hold the the thought within, that by voicing it he would be bombarded by remembrance, have to re-live his Baba’s death for the thousandth time.  Instead, he turned his mind to the Ancestral lands, to thoughts of T’Chaka in the comfort of the Kings who came before him.  It helped, to a certain extent.  

There was a noise like a cough, that universal prompt to grab attention.  _Beyond universal,_ it seemed.  The woman was staring at him in anticipation, and T’Challa realised she must have asked him a question.  

“You wanna come with me?” She said, somewhat begrudgingly, apparently sensing his discomfort.  “Okoye is among those waiting for my return.” 

“Please,” T’Challa said eagerly, in need of a familiar face, and gestured for her to lead the way.  

 _Valkyrie, that’s what they call her,_ T’Challa realised, watching the ripple of her cape as she strode determinedly down the hallway, not glancing to see if he followed.  He hurried after her, not wishing to be left frozen in one of these maze-like hallways again.  

 

***

 

_Gods making jokes out of kings, what a sight to behold._

Brunnhilde had seen a lot of planets over the years.  She’d had a hand in protecting a few, in destroying others.  Midgard, though, was unlike anything else.  Midgard had the most expansive range of alcohol she’d ever laid eyes on, and right now, her mission was to sample every single one of them.  Sure, there was the chance of invasion looming, but she’d fought with ten-times the amount of alcohol leeching into her bloodstream, and she was still here, wasn’t she?

 _How am I still here?_ The question flashed up in her mind unwittingly, and she tightened her grip on the crate she carried.  This wasn’t the time for pity.  As long as there was a war to be waged, it wasn’t the time.

The Valkyrie took a deep breath, turning the corner into the open-planned room which she and a few other had appropriated for a gathering place.  One wall was entirely comprised of windows, and the city stretched out ahead, dazzlingly bright, buildings illuminated by sunlight.  The floor above, accessed by a swirling staircase in the corner, led out onto the balcony that held the helipad.  Various seats had been pushed into a cluster in the centre of the room, and Brunnhilde was met with a cheer as she waded back into the gathering, setting the crate of alcohol in the middle on the floor. She heard the king behind her as he hesitated on the perimeter of the seating, trying to look for a place to sit.

“Glad to see you survived your interaction with Loki, your highness,” Natasha said in lieu of a hello.  

“Thank you, Miss Romanoff,” T’Challa replied with amusement.    

Okoye jumped to her feet, giving a salute and a greeting of, “My king,” offering up her own seat for her liege. T’Challa shook his head, motioning for her to sit back down, and she did so with a nod, making room for him on the armchair besides her, which he settled into with a lithely grace.

Meanwhile, Brunnhilde slumped into her own seat with little ceremony, causing Maria Hill to look over with a grin.  Maria was sat besides Natasha (or The Black Widow, Thor had said, seemingly wary of her) and together the two of them were chatting about the infuriating behaviour of Tony Stark.

“-seen him pumped full of poison and on the verge of self-destruction,” Natasha said, and Maria turned back to her, rubbing her arm in dramatic sympathy, muttering how valiantly she’d dealt with him.  

“Shut up, Hill,” Natasha replied, playfully pushing Maria’s knee.  She leant forward, grasping a new bottle of drink from the crate, and setting to pouring for the assembled team.

Brunnhilde turned her attention away from the pair, observing the figure by the windows.  Sat a little ways removed from their group, with her back to the rest of them, the assassin Gamora was cleaning her blades, silent but for the swipe of cloth along the metal.  Valkyrie knew of Gamora, from whispers in Sakaar.  The Grandmaster had longed to have her as a participant in his Contest of Champions, but given who her father was, he had wisely discarded the idea as just a daydream.  She could just imagine the Grandmaster’s face if he could see the company she was in now, that baffled look of genius as ideas of entertainment brewed in his wacky brain. 

Brunnhilde wondered how Gamora must be feeling, knowing that Thanos was coming for this world.  She hadn’t said a word to any of them all day.  Just sat there, immovable, the _swish_ of cloth against blade the only noise to let them know of her continued presence.

“Valkyrie,” the call came from Okoye, and she acknowledged her with a ‘hmm?’.  “Your blade, what is it made from?”

“This is a Dragonfang,” Brunnhilde replied.  “The name says it all.”  

There was a splutter of disbelief from Maria.  “You don’t mean to say…” she said, gesturing to the sword, but apparently unable to finish her sentence.               

“Dragons, they exist?” Okoye said, in a calm, steady voice.  Maria snapped her fingers, happy someone had got the question out.

“Of course, do you not have them on Midgard?” She replied, a hint of false incredulity in her tone.  Proclaiming ignorance on Midgardian practices was quickly becoming an amusing pastime.  Thor had recommended it to her, and it was highly entertaining.  

Maria gave a frantic shake of her head, still speechless.  Natasha beside her looked rather stoic, but there was a glimmer of fascination in her eyes.  Brunnhilde saw her hands flex, as if she were refraining from reaching to take the blade and examine it.  

Sensing that it wouldn’t be in Natasha’s nature to blatantly ask for the sword, Valkyrie held it out to her, hilt first, for her to look at.  Natasha took it without a word, giving Brunnhilde the bottle of whiskey in exchange.  She took a hearty swig from the bottle, leaning back in her chair for an instant, before making a quick decision and standing, grabbing a couple of glasses, making her way over to Gamora  before she could change her mind.  _I could get the blades from her if it comes to it._     

 

***

 

Okoye couldn’t quite believe her luck.  

The afternoon was drawing to a close, and she was using a sword crafted from the fang of a dragon to spar with an intergalactic assassin.  Gamora had gradually been integrated into the conversation after Brunnhilde had approached her, and was putting her well-honed blades to good use against the Dragonfang. They’d cleared the seats to one side, where Maria and T’Challa now perched, watching them with amusement, in distracted discussion about the assembled heroes scattered throughout the Tower.  

Meanwhile, the Valkyrie was testing out the ‘Black Widow’s Bites’ that Natasha employed, whilst the Widow in question was going through the warmup motions with Okoye’s spear.

In the split-second where Okoye was distracted by this pair, Gamora swung forwards, blades singing through the air with their momentum as they sailed past Okoye’s line of defence.  She scurried backwards, hurriedly raising her sword, managing to deflect Gamora’s blades at the last moment.  Gamora dropped her hands to her side, sheathing her blades, and let out a happy laugh of triumph.  Okoye raised an eyebrow in confusion.  

“It’s been a long time since I sparred with someone of your skill,” Gamora said.  

“Hey! What the hell Gamora?” The voice came from the hallway, and turning Okoye saw Peter Quill enter, followed by Steve Rogers and Sergeant Barnes.  Quill pulled a face of faux-hurt, and Gamora rolled her eyes.  

She went to reply, but was cut off by a rumbling from the helipad outside.  The noise built, to the point where it was shaking the windows of the tower, rattling around Okoye’s head.  She went to stand by T’Challa automatically, passing the Valkyrie her sword back on the way, and taking her spear from a serious-looking Natasha.    

The assembled group rushed to the windows, weapons drawn, as a shadow fell over the tower, masking the setting sun from view.  Looking at the helipad on the floor above, Okoye watched as a large aircraft settled onto the landing.  

Stark’s disembodied voice came booming out suddenly over the speakers, “Hill, is that Fury?” his voice weighted with worry.  

“I think so,” the deputy replied, incredulous, “and he’s brought company.”

Natasha stepped forwards, edging past Okoye to get a better look at the docked vehicle.  Her eyes narrowed as she watched the aircraft door open, and two figures step out onto the balcony.  

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Natasha said, and with that she was gone, rushing up the staircase to get to the balcony doors.  

Captain Rogers followed her quickly, as did Hill.  

“Is that Fury?” Okoye asked T’Challa, gesturing to the man on the left.  

“Yes,” her king replied, his voice almost a whisper.

“And who is that other man, do you know?” Okoye questioned.  T’Challa’s gaze didn’t leave the helipad, where more people were descending from the aircraft.

“Yes,” he said again.  “That, is Agent Coulson.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any interaction requests?


	4. The Genius and the Trickster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Shuri, snarky siblings

“Hill, is that Fury?” Tony asked, cutting off the music pounding from the speaker system, directing his question to the ceiling and the intercom. 

A perimeter breach had flashed up on about five of the screens Tony had been working from, accompanied by a deafening high-pitched alarm.

Shuri watched as he marched towards the elevator, repeatedly jabbing the button to call it to the lab floor.  Gratefully, he turned to switch off the alarm, but the echo of the noise still filled Shuri’s ears.  From her side Thor took up his barely-finished new weapon and strode forwards, joining Stark in his wait.

Meanwhile, Groot and Rocket looked utterly disinterested, hunched over a bench, whispering to each other.  From the crude gestures Rocket kept making, Shuri was glad she couldn’t hear what they were saying.

On the other hand, Loki was backing up against the wall as if he could phase through it.  _Maybe he can_ , Shuri thought.  She hadn’t quite sussed him out yet.     

“I think so,” came Maria’s reply over the speakers, “and he’s brought company.” 

At Hill’s voice Groot perked up, a vine spreading forth from his shoulder to tangle over Rocket’s mouth, silencing him. Shuri hid a smile behind her hands.  _The tree has a heart, it’s like I’ve fallen into one of Baba’s stories_.  Rocket wasn’t quite so charmed by the gesture, taking up a hammer from the workbench and swatting at the vine, muffled expletives accompanying every strike.  

There was a chime from the elevator, and the doors opened.  Thor and Stark stepped in immediately, and without a glance at his friend, still entangled in his branches, Groot stood and followed, dragging Rocket along in a makeshift wooden sling, still shouting at him.

The doors closed, taking Rocket’s pleas with them, and Shuri sank back into her chair with a huff of laughter, focusing on the EXO-7 Falcon wings laid on the workstation before her.

A smiley man named Sam Wilson had dropped them off at the lab about twenty minutes ago, not releasing his grip on the pack until Shuri had promised that she’d take good care of them.  The guy was as bad as Nakia with her Ring Blades.  He’d even asked after T’Challa as Nakia always did, but he’d called him _‘the cat guy’_. It was nice to see that at least _someone_ on this continent wanted to roast her brother.  She had been starting to worry that everyone here would be overly polite because of the whole royalty thing.  Sam had been a needed refreshment from the politics of it all. 

There were still too many updates to be made for Shuri to be greeting new arrivals, even if she was curious about Fury and whoever he’d brought back with him.  Her brother had met the old director of S.H.I.E.L.D. once, and she’d heard fascinating things concerning their spy-tech she’d love to confirm.  Still, that’d have to wait until later.  

Settling back into the rhythm of creating, Shuri almost forgot that she wasn’t _alone_ in the lab.  Loki was being quiet… exceedingly so.  If she’d learnt anything about him from Thor’s tales, it’s that he didn’t usually shut up, had apparently been talking non-stop ever since they’d left Asgard.  From what she’d witnessed though, it seemed to Shuri that _Thor_ was the talkative one.  _Maybe Loki is enjoying the peace and quiet, after a millennia of Thor’s voice._

She turned her head slowly, trying to subtly make out what he was doing.  Loki had edged forwards from his imitation of ‘being one with the wall’, and was now examining an Iron Man gauntlet Stark had abandoned at the sound of the alarm.  

_Not as sleek as mine, but without Vibranium, he did his best._

 

***

 

Loki hadn’t been left unattended to on Midgard since before New York.

You try to take over the world _one time_ , and people no longer trust you.  _So unforgiving, these humans_.  

Not that he was completely alone.  He may as well have been though, the only other person in the room was Shuri, who was more interested in crafting weapons than conversation.

He was bored, though.  Loki had been sat around in the lab for hours, and though he had a lot of them to spare, he wasn’t one for wasting time.

So he’d sauntered forwards, and started to tinker with little bits left out on the workbenches.  Not enough to seriously mess anything up, he didn’t have a death wish, but just enough to provoke some annoyance, spark a reaction.  

So far, though, nothing had gotten Shuri’s attention.  Apparently, he needed to crank it up a level.  Loki should have known that someone else with a brother wouldn’t be easily irritated.  He made his way towards the bench she was at, and began to poke about at the tools stacked in the box to her right.

He saw her eyebrow twitch with something that could be annoyance, but could also just be concentration. _Aha!_

Loki moved closer, prodding at the edge of one of the wings Shuri was working on.  He couldn’t say what she was doing exactly, but it seemed to be intricate work, and she had a magnifying glass propped up in front of her.  Shuri let out a little clicking noise, something disapproving maybe, and Loki grinned.

“Something the matter?” Loki said, playing the innocent.  

“Only that I’m a terrible multitasker,” Shuri replied, glancing up from her project.  Seeing Loki’s hand on the wing, her face turned grave.  Loki felt his face contort into an expression of confusion before he could stop himself.

“What has that got to do with me?” he queried.

“Well, I can’t exactly work with volatile materials and babysit you at the same time,” Shuri sighed, gesturing at the section of the wing Loki had just been prodding.  He jumped backwards, looking at his outstretched hand in alarm, then back at Shuri.  Her face was solemn for a few seconds, before she burst out laughing, and Loki rolled his eyes.  

“Very funny,” Loki deadpanned, letting his arm drop to his side.

“I didn’t think it’d be so easy to trick a Trickster,” Shuri shook her head in apparent disappointment, then clutched her chest dramatically.  “I expected more from you, I’m wounded here.”

“You didn’t-“ he started.

“Whatever you say,” Shuri nodded, edging around him to the console where Stark was based.  She typed in a few commands on the keyboard, and the security feed switched from the Upstate facility to upstairs, where T’Challa and the others were greeting Fury and another new group of people.  Loki approached the screen, mouth hanging open at the sight,  “What’s up with you?” Shuri asked.

Loki pointed at the figures on the screen wordlessly, as if that explained everything.  

“What, worried that you’re missing out? Longing to go crack open a cold one with the boys?” Shuri smiled at this, as if she’d said something funny.  Loki was unaware of any reason to be smiling.  In fact, right now, he wished he’d stayed on the ship. Gods, he wished he'd stayed on Asgard.  Ragnarok would be preferable to _this_.  Loki felt a prod in his side, and turned to see Shuri watching him like he was insane.  “What?”

“I don’t think I should be here,” Loki said, reeling back from the screen. “They wouldn’t be pleased to see me.”

“Why not? Because of that whole world domination attempt? Eh, that’s in the past,” Shuri said distractedly.  She was zooming in the camera feed on T’Challa’s chin, trying to get an unflattering angle that she could screenshot for future blackmail.  

“ _No_ ,” Loki said, with a snap of annoyance that Shuri blatantly ignored.  Why couldn’t he get a reaction from this girl? He was a God, for Odin’s sake, he’d struck fear into the hearts of many, across _galaxies._ “I don’t think they’d like to see me, because _I killed that man._ ” With these words he pointed at another screen, showing the zoomed out feed, at a guy in a suit stood next to Fury.   

Shuri’s head whipped round, and she let out a nervous noise caught between a laugh and a shout.

“How- What- Oh, shit!” Shuri exclaimed, but Loki was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! :)
> 
> As always, would love to hear your thoughts/any interaction requests


	5. The Archer and The Airmen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike the Marvel promo team, I actually remember that Clint exists haha  
> I've taken the slight liberty of giving him some comic book traits, because I'm trash for Fraction's hawkeye. But hey, that's the beauty of fanfic, right? ;)

"C'mon man, you know I can't do that without my wings," Sam whined, throwing up his hands in defeat.

"Not with that attitude you can't," Clint replied in his patented 'Dad Voice', examining his newly upgraded bow with glee. He nocked an arrow, aiming at the target at the far end of the gym. "This kid sure knows what she's doing."

 _Thwack_! Sang the arrow, straight into the centre of the target. Of course. Clint gave a little huff of delight, as if the sight was a shock to him.

"Hell yeah, cat-man's little sis' is the genius of the family," Sam replied, shrugging his shoulders, feeling the phantom weight of his absent wings. Being without them with danger imminent was making him twitchy.

That's why Clint had dragged him down here; the gym was separated from the rest of the tower, technologically. It wasn't wired like the rest of the building. The only announcements that would blare from the speakers were, in Tony's words, the 'world-is-fucked' ones.

And they weren't the only two seeking refuge down here. Colonel Rhodes was perched on a bench, chatting to an energetic girl who was examining his leg supports. As Sam watched, Rhodey erupted into laughter, and the girl broke into a smile at the sight. She'd introduced herself as MJ, and told Sam she was an 'associate' of Spider-Man's. At his disgruntled look, she'd made a comment about webs and airport security that had Clint practically wetting himself with delight. _Jackass subpar bird dude_ , Sam thought.

He turned back to said jackass, watching as Clint twirled an arrow around his head, before rapidly taking aim and firing at the tiny target hidden between two beams on the ceiling. Sam didn't even look to see where it'd landed.

"I can't do this without my suit," Sam reiterated, hands thrown wide in an imitation of his missing wings. "I still don't see how an old man's hunting weapon took precedent over my baby, but whatever."

Clint rolled his eyes, running his hand along the bowstring in a somehow placating gesture. "Come on, Wilson, are you telling me that the mighty Falcon can't clear a simple obstacle course without some special help?"

"I don't have your freaky SHIELD training, Clint!" Sam retorted, eyeing the obstacle course with trepidation. Barton had said all he needed was to burn off some energy, but now it looked like he wanted Sam to burn off all his energy. As in, 'dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to say Bye-bye Falcon'. _All because he can't stand another Avenger with a bird name._  Sam chuckled to himself. His jokes killed in his own head.

Ugh, he had to get out more.

Clint had apparently had enough of Sam's stalling, marching at him and grasping him by the upper arm, before walking him over to the start of the course. And what kinda crazy was Stark to build this sort of thing in his own house? ...On second thought, that was a box that didn't need opening right now.

Sam audibly gulped.

"Come on birdy, let's see what you've got!" the young voice was a new addition to the room. He knew that voice, the last time he'd heard it was in Berlin, as it stuck him to the floor. Peter fucking Parker. Sam looked up to see the teenager approaching him, clutching his cowl, a suddenly awkward look on his face, as if he wasn't happy with the way his voice had carried.

"Oh, it's on, spiderkid," Sam said. He hoped...

***

MJ was hardly paying any attention to Peter, far more fascinated with the Air Force colonel she was somehow conversing with. And he was a freakin' MIT graduate! Michelle had been subscribed to their college brochures since she was six years old.

"So what was it like, flying the suit for the first time?" MJ asked, trying to sound nonchalant, sure that her tone suggested she was anything but.

Rhodey smiled, as if he could read these thoughts passing across her face. "It's... well, honestly, it was just incredible. And that's an understatement. Tony may be a lot of things," at this he glanced at Peter. Stark wasn't exactly her favourite person for dragging one of her only friends into this shitshow, and Rhodey knew it, "he may be many things, but he sure knows how to build a guy a suit."

"I've been thinking about that," MJ said with a sly grin, "I'd love to get my hands on one..."

"Nice try kid, but it'll take more than that to convince me." Rhodey shook his head in mock disapproval.

"Hey that's okay, I'll just build my own at MIT."

"I don't doubt that, MJ," Rhodes replied. "You remind me of someone, and she got shit done."

"Yeah? Someone good I hope," MJ said, internally freaking out because _he actually said my name!_

"Oh, you bet. Danvers was one of a kind, but you give her a serious run for her money in the valour department," Rhodey said fondly.

"I like that."

"Well good, because I wouldn't dish that comparison out to just anyone."

"Rhodey... there's something I've got to ask of you," MJ said, staring down at her Converse, digging her heels into the floor.

Rhodes made a noise that encouraged her to go on.

"It's Peter. I know there's a lot of you out there, but, can you keep an eye on him for me?" She glanced up, watching as he bounced across the obstacle course, shouting taunts at the trailing Falcon.

"Sure thing, kid," Rhodey said, patting MJ on the shoulder. "You can count on that."

***

Clint was having the most fun he'd had since Budapest.

Sure, this involved much less running from mobsters in track suits, and more watching Sam Wilson filled with dramatic angst, but honestly, the two were pretty level on his ~Clint Barton Fun O'Meter~. And coming from a guy who'd been in the circus, that was saying something.

He was heckling Sam with a particularly nice Falcon based pun when there was an impatient tap on his shoulder. Well... less of a tap and more of a whack.

He turned. _Ah, Nat_. That was a signature Widow hit, he should've known. He opened his mouth to speak, but something about her expression had his words halting before they could be fully formed.

"Nat, what is it?" His voice was low, urgent.

Nat ran a hand through her hair, a rare sign of agitation. _Shit, this must be serious._

"It's Fury," she replied. Clint raised an eyebrow, as if saying 'and?'

In an instant she wrested the bow from his grip, before he could stutter any protest.

"What are you doing, Nat?" This was starting to worry him.

"It's necessary."

"Care to elaborate? You're freaking me out here."

"Clint, Fury is back, but he's not alone."

"Alright, who has he dragged into this mess? Murdock been wrangled out of Hell's Kitchen?" He joked.

"It's Coulson. He's alive." The words had no sooner left her mouth than Clint was rushing past her, out of the gym and towards the elevator. She dropped the bow and ran after him.

"I'm gonna kill him myself," Clint muttered, calling the elevator. "Nat, we thought he was dead. _I_ thought he was dead." His face was a map of hurt.

This was more like Budapest than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, real life has been kicking my ass! 
> 
> As always, love to hear your thoughts.


	6. The Soldiers and The Inhuman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be my favourite chapter so far! It's a bit of a longer one, enjoy ;)
> 
> Also, yes I'm including Agents of Shield characters, but I'm ignoring Season Five given how that complicates things.

Bucky watched as Steve ran towards the helipad, chasing after Natasha. They were followed by Hill, and immediately got wrapped up in a heated conversation with Fury and his group. Bucky stepped back.  Given that the last time he’d seen Fury it had been through the scope of his rifle, it seemed best to keep his distance.  

He turned his focus to the other members of Fury’s entourage.  Almost unwittingly, details came to the front of his mind, relics of his Soviet programming.  Shuri may have helped to eliminate the Winter Soldier’s triggers, but the information drilled into him for decades was a little harder to lose.  

His attention caught on the smartly dressed man at Fury’s immediate side.  He had a sheepish look on his face, whilst both Hill and Nat gestured animatedly at him.

 _Coulson_.  That was the name Bucky had heard T’Challa utter at the man in the suit's descent from the ship.  

 _Agent Phillip J. Coulson. Senior SHIELD operative. Handler: STRIKE TEAM DELTA. Level 8. DECEASED,_ Bucky’s mind supplied.

 _Huh, not so dead_. It looked like he had some outdated intel on at least one front there. 

Then again, who was really dead these days? Steve had been able to warn him about Fury, but it was still pretty insane to see him in the flesh, watch him cast a tired look at Stark, who had appeared from somewhere without Bucky even noticing, and was now trying to pry Fury's attention away from an excitable Quill.

 _Ah, Stark_.  Just another person in this damn tower he had to avoid. It was becoming something of a minefield around here.  Bucky was starting to doubt just how much of an asset he could be to a team where a good portion of its members had been personally effected by him.

 _No, by the soldier_ , he corrected. Not that it helped.  He still looked like the Winter Soldier in the mirror.  His hands were still drenched in blood.  

He let out a ragged breath, clenching and unclenching his fists in an attempt to ground himself.  Bucky forced his gaze down, to his newly issued metal arm.  No red star.  It was quite the piece of tech.  He may have been out of time for the better part of a century, but even he could tell that it was cutting-edge.  Every tiny movement he made was translated through the metal with ease.  Plus, it didn’t leave his shoulder aching like the previous model, which he was learning to take as a bonus.  

Bucky looked over at where King T’Challa stood, slightly removed from Fury’s welcome wagon, but close enough to have a presence in the conversation.

Bucky didn’t know how he could ever fully convey his gratitude to the Wakandan and his family.  They may have had a rocky start (to put it _incredibly_ mildly), but T’Challa had provided Bucky with a refuge in his country, and his sister had given him a refuge in his mind.  

There was no ‘thank you’ big enough for what they'd done for him. That didn’t mean he'd stop looking for one, though.  

Bucky was caught up in ideas of gratitude, watching Gamora and the Valkyrie from across the room. Both were silent, sprawled on a cluster of seats, the latter taking a hearty gulp from a bottle of scotch. 

They were also steering clear of the crowd, it seemed. Bucky made a sudden decision, stepping forward from his sentinel position, and coming to sit on the edge of one of the gathered chairs. Gamora acknowledged him with a barely-there incline of her head, whilst the Valkyrie simply handed him a drink. 

Silence suited him fine. When it was shared, at least.

He watched the gathering move inside from the helipad, saw Thor give Coulson a hearty clap on the back. Nat had disappeared, but given Hill's unworried expression, Bucky let it go. Coulson's team trailed behind him, three women and a young man. One of the ladies looked familiar to Bucky. She was standing casually, but her hand rested near her holster. He'd hazard SHIELD trained, from her stance. Bahrain came to mind, for some reason.

His musings were abruptly interrupted by a call of "whatup wolf?" from his side, accompanied by a thump as Shuri unceremoniously landed on the cushion next to him. 

"I thought you couldn't leave the lab?" Bucky replied, giving her a faux-glare that had her shoving him in the arm. 

It had shocked him initially, how casually she'd touch him like that, as if he posed no threat. When she'd been fitting his new arm, he'd recoiled from every point of contact, fearing a missed trigger, anticipating a snap to the clinical mind of the Soldier. 

It hadn't come. And now, Bucky was getting used to Shuri's pushes. She reminded him of one of his sisters, the way she joked with him, like he was a lame kid.

"I got bored, I finished upgrading Wilson's wings in about three minutes," Shuri said, not in a boastful way, just plainly, stating her truth. 

"Hmph," was Bucky's reply, "you're too smart for your own good."

"Easy there grandpa, or I'll programme your arm to slap you every time you show your true age," Shuri said, earning a snort from the Valkyrie.

"Touché." Bucky held up his hands in an imitation of surrender. 

"Wow, Buck, really taking a hit to that scary image you've cultivated," the voice was one he'd know anywhere. 

"Oh, like you're not a giant puppy Rogers? The beard isn't fooling anyone," Bucky turned to Steve, a smile flitting onto his face. He had separated from the group, approaching the couches on his own.

And this was familiar. Whatever the war, _whenever_ the fight, being alongside this punk provided a safety net like nothing else. 

Steve ran a hand through his beard, eyes narrowed. 

"Wow, now you just look like a cartoon villain," Shuri chimed in. 

Bucky held up his hand for a high five without turning his eyes from Steve. Shuri met it in a practiced gesture, and they performed a quick little handshake routine all without making eye contact with each other ...His time in Wakanda hadn't all been medical testing. They’d made their own entertainment.

Steve simply smiled at them, and it struck at a place in Bucky that called forth images of late night conversations, and trips to Coney Island. 

"I think Tony is concerned that I'm coming for his image," Steve said with a roll of his eyes, seating himself in an armchair. 

"I think he should be more worried about the Doctor," Bucky gestured at his own chin, as if drawing the lines of Stark's beard there.

"Strange?" Shuri queried. Bucky nodded. 

"Where is this doctor?" Gamora asked suddenly. Bucky had almost forgot she was sat there.

"Holed up in his mansion with some of the more mystical members of our team," Steve said, waving his hands in a gesture that he apparently thought conveyed mystery, but to Bucky looked a lot more like jazz hands. 

"Gods and aliens aren't mystical enough for you?" Bucky said.

"Hey, it wasn't my call, Strange wanted to question Vision, and Wanda tagged along," Steve replied. 

"Along with Mantis," Gamora said. 

"Is that what she's called?" The Valkyrie said, her words a little slurred. At this rate, Bucky was a bit concerned about her abilities to fight if Thanos suddenly appeared. 

"Yes," Gamora replied defensively, as if daring her to take issue with it. 

The Valkyrie just shook her head in a dismissive fashion. "Interesting, she grabbed my arm and told me I felt like a drunk old ogre." At this she raised her bottle in salute. 

Shuri let out a huff of laughter, “Can you blame her?" 

For an instant Bucky worried Shuri was going to be drenched in scotch, from the way the Valkyrie turned the full weight of her gaze to the princess, jaw clenched and arm raised. 

Then, she smiled, a dangerous thing that Bucky wasn't sure was preferable, and said, "I like you, Shuri of Wakanda." 

Bucky let out a breath of relief, and Steve made a noise of shock. Shuri simply nodded, possibly the most diplomatic move Bucky had ever seen her make. 

"You're not so bad," Shuri added after a second, and Bucky just about managed to refrain from face palming, "for an alien, that is." 

"Let us talk about weapons," the Valkyrie said, and Shuri's face lit up, "my Dragonfang is in need of some care."

Bucky turned back to Steve, not sure he wanted to be witness to whatever chaos the two of them could bring about together.

"Did you know, about Coulson?" Steve asked.

"No, I didn't," Bucky said apologetically. "Why has Fury been keeping it from you for so long?"

"Some bureaucratic bullshit about keeping teams in reserve," Steve's tone relayed the contempt he felt about that. Bucky was all too familiar with Steve's opinion on secret regulations. After all, this was a guy who'd committed several crimes in an attempt to be drafted into the army.

"So, it wasn't Coulson's choice?" Bucky gathered.

"Not in the slightest, but I don't think everyone is seeing it that way," Steve said with a wince, looking past Bucky's head.

Bucky turned around to see Coulson face to face with Clint, being tailed by a somber-looking Nat. Through the glass that divided their two rooms, Bucky couldn't hear what was being said, but from the look on Barton's face, it wasn't exactly all happy reunions. 

"Ouch," Bucky said, watching the way Coulson was flinching at Clint's shouts. The other occupants of the room were doing their best to seem uninterested.

"Ouch," agreed Steve. 

 

***

 

Daisy was slightly concerned she was back in the Framework.  Surely that was the only rational explanation for her current position.

First of all, she was stood in the _Avenger’s tower,_ and, as if that wasn’t strange enough, most of the Avengers were within quaking distance.  Not that she planned on quaking Captain America or anything, it was just surreal that, theoretically, she could.  

Fury had appeared at their base without warning, or explanation.  He had simply marched to Coulson’s office, shut the door for not more than a minute, then emerged with Coulson in tow, their Director looking more bewildered than she had ever seen him.  Coulson had promptly ordered May to gather ‘the provisions’ (a pretty ominous statement, in Daisy’s opinion) before calling over the comms for FitzSimmons, and gesturing for Daisy to follow him and Fury.  

Not three hours later and here she stood, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Coulson, who was being shouted at by none other than freakin’ Hawkeye. The Black Widow had approached May, and after exchanging the classic spy nod the two started to chat like old friends.  Whilst their familiarity wasn't exactly new information to Daisy, it was still a sight to behold.  

FitzSimmons were gradually approaching Tony Stark, inching closer to his little circle of debate, awkwardly trying to just drift into his line of sight.  And meanwhile there Daisy stood, alone, with the knowledge of an impending war hanging over her head, feeling a little more than the odd one out.  

She wished that Yo-Yo or Mack were there, but Coulson had left them in charge at the base.  Daisy could've used a few more friendly faces right now.  

“Everything okay there, Quake?” Daisy turned at the question, pleased to see it had come from Maria Hill, who had finally detached from Fury’s side.

“Oh, yeah, you know me Hill, this is just business as usual,” Daisy wondered if her voice sounded as hysterical to Maria as it did to her own ears.  

“Daisy,” she replied, her voice a touch softer, “Fury brought you in because this _is_ business as usual for you.”

Daisy looked at her with an expression of disbelief, “Huh, sure, how could I forget all those other times I’ve hung out with the Avengers?”

Hill gave her a half-hearted scowl, and Daisy let her shoulders slump a little.  This was super fucking weird.

“You’ve regularly saved the world, faced Hydra more times than Rogers himself, and can literally move mountains.  You can handle this,” Maria reeled off each point with a waggle of her finger.  The ridiculous image of Hill as a librarian came to mind.  Maybe they should just send Maria in against Thanos, see if she could berate him enough to halt his whole space-jewellery quest.  Daisy wouldn’t say it was out of the realm of possibility.  

All Daisy could seem to do in response to this list of her greatest hits was nod.  Maria seemed satisfied though, giving her a friendly clap on the shoulder and moving off towards Nat and May.

Daisy chanced a look in Coulson’s direction, and accidentally made eye contact with him, which seemed to be all the invitation he needed to shout her over as a distraction from Clint.  God, did he owe her.  

“Barton, this is Agent Daisy Johnson.  Daisy, this is Clint Barton,” Coulson said quickly, in Clint’s stunned break from the shouting match. As if she didn’t know who Hawkeye was.  

“Quake, right? You’re Inhuman?” Clint turned to her, apparently content to follow this through for the moment.  At least he hadn’t turned his anger on her.  Luckily his look was more curious than furious.  

“Yep,” Daisy replied simply, wondering where this was going. _Wow, such a smart answer Daisy_.  It was odd to be so casually revealing her status as Inhuman.  It felt as unnatural as if she’d had a neon sign hanging above her head, with ‘NOT HUMAN’ flashing obnoxiously at every passer-by. Considering Thor was about ten feet away, though, she supposed it was safe enough to have alien genetics here.  

“Cool,” Hawkeye said, nodding with interest. Hawkeye thought _she_ was cool? Daisy’s inner fangirl, the one who’d once cosplayed at the base of this very tower, was screaming in delight.  She hoped it didn’t show in her expression.  Not every shred of dignity had been stripped from her. Not yet anyway… 

“Hey, don’t I know you?” Stark called out suddenly, as if on cue, pointing at Daisy. “I’m having vague memories of taffeta and lycra.” _Shit_. _There goes that last shred._

 

***

 

“She reminds me of you, Barton,” Coulson said experimentally, gesturing at a cringing Daisy as she reluctantly moved towards Stark. Tony needed to watch himself there, Daisy was no longer the woman he might expect her to be.  Then again, a few dents to his ego couldn’t hurt.  It was an amateur move, a cowardly one, maybe, talking about Daisy to test Clint’s reactions.  Anything to hold back his shouting for a few moments longer.  

“Why, did she think you’d been murdered for years too?” Clint bit back.  _Oof… I_ _should have seen that coming_ , Coulson thought. _Easy target_.

“I was thinking more of Cape Town, ’07,” Coulson replied, not intentionally ignoring the jab, but knowing that his apologies had so far proven useless.  Time for a tactic shake up.  

“Asshole,” Clint replied, seemingly before he could stop himself.  The word held no sting though.  He’d called Coulson it enough times over the years that it was almost a term of endearment.  Better than shouting, anyway.  “What about ‘what happens in Cape Town stays in Cape Town?’”

“I’m sorry, Clint, but your Hulk impression is unforgettable.  Particularly when you’re decked out in a tutu in the middle of the British consulate,” Coulson said, smiling at the memory.  It was a mental image he wasn’t likely to forget.  

“Hey, in my defence, I was told Nat would be covering the ballet aspect of the mission,” Barton muttered, giving Coulson a somewhat-friendly nudge in the ribs.  It may have still winded him slightly, but hey, progress.  His ears could recover from the shouting, at least.

“Cape Town?” Nat asked, popping up from behind Coulson suddenly.  It took him a second to realise that it was her, not used to the blonde hair yet. Coulson nodded.  “Clint, I didn’t think you’d actually wear the tutu.” Natasha added.

“Oh, I’m sorry, but when a newly-turned Russian assassin tells you to put on a tutu, you put on the damn tutu,” Clint said.

Coulson laughed. In those early days, Natasha had made a habit of taking advantage of their tenuous relationship to pull stunts like that.  The fact that Coulson and Barton hadn’t been too pissed off at the tests she’d carried out to ascertain her new employer’s limits had solidified Strike Team Delta’s bond through a baptism of fire.

“Well, I wouldn’t be too angry, Barton, the mission was still a success,” Coulson said.  

“That’s true,” Nat said.  “No World War III, you’re welcome, Earth.”

Clint mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like “But at what cost?”, earning him a whack on the chest from Natasha.  He stepped back in a strategic move of surrender.

“Well, at least-“ Coulson began, but he was cut off by Clint grabbing his arm and pulling him to the ground.  “Clint, what the-“

A deafening shatter sounded from the place Coulson had just been standing.

He turned around, panicking, checking to see if his team were all okay.  The wall he’d just been standing by had been obliterated, a crater where the glass had splintered.

Tony wasted no time in jumping through the gap, Iron Man suit forming around him, appearing as if from within his skin. _That was new_.  Apparently, Coulson was a bit out of the loop.  Daisy was pulling on her gauntlets.

Stark’s voice came over the loudspeaker, fizzling with static, “It’s Thanos, he’s coming.  He’s somehow got around my satellite detection system.” 

“Avengers-“ Rogers called, as he sprinted into the room with Bucky, strapping on his new shields.

Another explosion sounded in the distance, and Coulson saw the Brooklyn Bridge erupt into flames. Thanos was blocking the exits.  Stark shot towards the chaos without a second thought.  

A crackle whipped through the air, and Loki materialised before Coulson without warning.

For a second they both just stood facing each other, dumbstruck, frozen.

“I’m sorry,” Loki said, and Coulson had a feeling it was more an apology for appearing in his path than for the whole murder thing.  There was no time to dwell on it though, as in an instant Thor had grabbed his brother and jumped after Stark.  

Coulson snapped into motion as well.  _Thanos now, Loki later_.

_If we both make it to later, that is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)  
> I'd love to hear what you thought of this one, I hope I handled Coulson in a sufficient way haha


	7. The Star-Lord and The Cavalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for the battle to get underway! This is where, as you'd expect, the violence starts to come in, so this is your warning.

Peter Quill couldn’t quite believe he was back on Planet Earth.

In all fairness, it’s kinda hard to feel like you’ve come home when you’re waiting to face off against your sorta-maybe-girlfriend’s psychotic grape-man of a dad. That dude’s the same shade Rocket had dyed himself by eating some weird candy on Xandar.The Raccoon’s curses still haunted his dreams.The mouth on him, Quill was worried he’d started to rub off on Groot. 

In the meantime, Peter had passed the hours waiting for invasion by meeting his childhood heroes.It had somewhat messed with his ability to see things objectively.

Of course, it could be that’s how things were now on Earth.Everyone spent time hanging out with _Captain freakin’ America_ , who was, as it turned out, somehow alive?

Peter’s inner child was screaming in delight.Hell, who was he kidding, his adult self had screamed in delight too.

He wished he could go back to fourth grade and yell “I told you so!” at Carter Jones, the little asshole who had teased Peter about his Captain America obsession, and the belief that Steve was still out there somewhere, waiting.

As a matter of fact, there were quite a few people he’d like to confront.For one thing, he’d like to be able to tell his terrifying school-counsellor that he hadn’t gone insane, that speculating about aliens and his space cowboy dad were not ‘coping mechanisms’, but pretty big understatements, thank you very much.

That’d have to wait though, given that Thanos had just made a dramatic re-appearance.

“So, let me get this straight.You’re telling me that Kevin Bacon is the centre of the universe?” Peter said, checking his weapons sat snug in their holsters.

“Yep, that about sums it up.Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon.Just one of the major discoveries you’ve missed out on,” Shuri nodded sagely, leading him towards the elevators.

“Is this really the time, sister?” T’Challa muttered, engaging his suit with one swift click.The elevator doors slid closed as an explosion sounded in the distance, as if to exaggerate his point. 

“Awh, shut up old man,” Shuri retorted, elbowing her brother.“You never know, Earth trivia could be the thing to swing this battle in our favour.”

“It happens more often than you’d think,” Quill added.Shuri gave him an appreciative high-five.T’Challa shook his head at the pair in dismay, before the elevator doors clicked open, revealing Sam Wilson, Rhodey, _another_ guy named Peter, just a kid really, and MJ.The four of them clambered into the elevator with a cacophony of greetings, and then the space fell oddly silent as the doors closed once more. 

The whole thing was a bit surreal.

Quill was really about to go out there and fight for a planet that he hadn’t set foot on in decades, alongside a whole host of costumed heroes just ready to rumble.He didn’t even know what Earth had become in his absence, and now he was on his way to guard it.

The bizarre realisation that they were taking an elevator to get there, and the eclectic bunch of people he was squished up against, had Quill letting out a hysterical laugh before he could hold it back. 

Three teen geniuses, a King, two military men, and him. _Star-Lord_ felt like a bit of a gimmick in the face of their achievements. 

At his burst of laughter, Rhodey clapped a hand onto Quill’s shoulder in a surprisingly comforting gesture.MJ, Shuri, and the-other-Peter were huddled together, talking quietly at a rapid pace.Quill took a steadying breath, but before he could open his mouth, in apology or gratitude, the doors were sliding open and everyone was filing out into the Tower’s atrium. 

After a second, Quill moved forwards too.The lobby was swarmed, and virtually everyone Quill had been introduced to over the past few days was rushing about, gearing up or calling orders.He watched as Shuri and T’Challa completed a quick handshake routine before the king took off running, out into the chaos of the city.Quill was handed an earpiece and his Star-Lord helmet by a stressed-out looking agent, and he took them gratefully, popping the earpiece into place.

Quill made his way through the crowd, towards the windows, looking up at the smoking skyline, the city already descending into chaos.He could see Iron Man doing damage control, and as he watched War Machine flew to his side.

“ _Nice of you to make it, cupcake_ ,” Tony greeted Rhodey over the comms.

“ _You try running on these legs, Tone_ ,” he laughed back.The pair began approaching the great ship that loomed above them.

Quill blinked at the realisation that not ten seconds ago, Rhodey had been at his side. _He sure doesn’t hang around._

A deafening crack, as if the sky had split in two, had Quill rushing out into the city.It barely giving him chance to realise that this was the first time his feet were touching the Earth again.He ran in the direction of the noise, seeing the Valkyrie ahead of him. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a ripple of colour to his right had Doctor Strange and the Scarlet Witch emerging onto the scene, the latter sending ripples of red at the skyscraper crumbling ahead of them, attempting to halt the demolition. Strange had a gash on his face, dripping blood and something darker, a viscous black substance that had him wincing. 

Quill didn’t have time to ask questions, hitting engage on his jet boots and the Star-Lord helmet before soaring towards the building Wanda was straining to hold up. 

Spider-Man swung before him, calling out something about ‘wrapping the building like a burrito’ that had Quill confused, but trying to help nonetheless.He flew in through what had once been a window, tapping his HUD to scan for signs of life.After a few sweeps of the building, and clearing the few people that remained, he emerged, coming to land by Wanda’s side. 

With a twist of Doctor Strange’s hands, the now-deserted building vanished, and Wanda sunk to her knees, shaking from the strain of her magic.The Valkyrie was at their side in an instant, asking if Wanda was alright.Her blade shone with the same dark substance that coated Strange’s wound, and she moved it in a circular motion to clean it. 

Quill stepped backwards, giving the pair some space, glancing skyward to see the vanished building crashing into Thanos’s ship.Quill looked at Strange quizzically, and received only a sheepish shrug in return.

“Was worth a shot,” Strange drawled.If Quill wasn’t imagining things, Strange’s cape rippled in a way that could only be described as a nod. 

“Oh, sure,” Quill replied, as if seeing magicians was normal to him.Earth had got a whole lot stranger, that was for sure. 

A terrifying cry sounded, a wrecked, pained noise that had them both taking off towards its source.

Turning the corner, Quill saw Mantis on her knees, screaming as she held tight to Gamora, who was drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. 

“What the hell is happening,” Quill said, sinking to sit besides the assassin.“Gamora, what’s happened, are you hurt?”

“Peter,” she groaned out, sounding incredibly annoyed.That eased his anxiety, somehow.“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine! Is this what you think fine looks like? What’s happening to Mantis?” Quill asked, voice unnervingly high.

“She’s taking my pain, so I can face Thanos unhindered by emotion.” Gamora replied, as if simply describing the weather.

“You can’t… that’s crazy,” Quill said, reaching for Mantis.“Can’t you see what this is doing to her?”

“Don’t you understand what it was doing to me?” Gamora seethed, in a voice that had Quill halting in his tracks. 

Strange, keeping his distance until now, came to hover by Mantis, closing his eyes in concentration.“I’ll keep watch over her,” he promised. 

No sooner had the sentence left his mouth than Gamora was on her feet, stumbling slightly, but unwilling to let Quill assist her.

“I hope you’re ready to meet my dad,” she said, voice monotonous. 

“Well, you met mine.I guess this is payback,” Quill replied.“Do they not realise that planet annihilation makes for a terrible first impression?”

“Looks like Thanos and Ego read the same parenting book,” Gamora mused, drawing her blades.“Let’s go, Star-Lord.”

Quill saw the Hulk emerge at the end of the block, carrying a shouting Groot in one hand, Hawkeye perched on his other shoulder. 

“Let’s go.”

_Yeah, Earth had got fucking weird._

 

 ***

 

 _Of all the battles Fury wanted us back for_ , Melinda thought, slamming the butt of her gun into an alien she’d filled with bullets, its wounds oozing black goo.

The fight was raging, with a legion of insect-like aliens having descended from Thanos’s ship like a swarm of mosquitoes, occupying a good number of their ranks.

Somewhere, out there in the city, Daisy was besides Bucky, up against one of Thanos’s Black Order (a terrible name, in May’s opinion), and the last she had seen of them, it had been a brutal match.Every so often, May would feel a rumble underfoot, an assurance that Quake was still doing her damned best. 

In the face of this horde, though, May had to wonder if that would be enough.She was just glad that Daisy had a partner. 

If only the same could be said for her.

May had somehow found herself surrounded, and unable to call for backup. Her comm had been knocked from her ear courtesy of a particularly aggressive attacker, the crawly little bastard, and it had vanished instantly.May gave the alien’s carcass a good stamp underfoot, using it as leverage to launch into a roundhouse kick, bringing another enemy to the ground.She swiped her hand over the back of her mouth, coming away covered in blood and specks of black shit.

She hoped this alien substance wasn’t toxic, but hey, she’d leave that for FitzSimmons to determine when she got out of this mess.She couldn’t bring herself to think that she may _not_ get out of this mess. That wasn’t ‘The May Way’, as Coulson had dubbed it. 

May swung backwards out of the reach of an alien, as she reached to reload her gun.

She wasn’t fast enough.The scorpion-like tail of the alien came soaring towards her chest, and she took a deep breath.

If these were her last moments, she wouldn’t waste them in a panic.

May clicked the new magazine into place, blood-slicked hands slowing the motion. 

The tail came closer. 

May could taste metal on her tongue, mixed with the bitter taste of the black goo.

She took another breath.

There was no impact.

_There’s no impact._

In the stunned second following this realisation, May lifted her head, seeing the severed alien tail thunk to the ground with a gross crunching noise.

“I’m glad I spotted you, Agent May,” the woman was unfamiliar to her, wielding ring blades to cut through the alien’s as if they were tissue paper. 

“Who are you?” were May’s first words, a thank you lingering on her mind, but unspoken.

“My name is Nakia,” she said, not halting her fight.There was a lithe grace to her movements, and her accent jogged May’s memory.

“Of Wakanda?” The laugh May received in return was her confirmation. “Thank you, for that,” May added, shooting at an alien approaching Nakia’s six. 

Nakia turned in surprise, “Well, I think that makes us even.”

May moved towards Nakia, and the two turned to have their backs against one another, covering all blindspots. 

“It will be a pleasure to fight with the famed Cavalry,” Nakia shouted over the sound of her blades meeting flesh.

May grit her teeth, taking down two aliens with a single bullet.“Well, I’ve always wondered what a War Dog could do,” she replied.

“I have a feeling we’ll make quite the team,” Nakia said in the lull, as a new swarm of aliens edged forwards. “As long as you don’t freeze.”

May let out a surprised noise.She liked people who could surprise her. 

“Let’s test that feeling,” May replied, gearing up for the next wave. 

They were approaching from all directions.

 _Time to test our reputations_.

 

 ***

 

Quill’s head hit the deck of the ship with a thwack, ears ringing at the impact. 

Thanos held Gamora by the throat, and was roaring something at her about Nebula that he couldn’t make out.

Quill shook his head, trying to relieve the ringing sensation, but only serving to make it louder.He gave a tap on the comm, calling for backup. 

There was only static. 

Thor lay at Thanos’s feet, crying out in pain, scrabbling to hold at the joint where his arm had once been.

Thanos had thrown the God of Thunder like he was a rag doll, ripping his arm from his body to seize the Space Stone from his hand.

Thanos was monstrous, merciless, and unstoppable.

Quill was surprised that Thor was still breathing.

Loki was attempting to reach his brother without calling any attention to himself, his face carefully neutral, his clenched fists revealing his panic. 

Quill made to sit up, head spinning.He could see Hawkeye’s quiver discarded by Loki’s feet, a couple of arrows still inside.

He had no idea what had happened to the archer. Or most of the Avengers, for that matter. 

His world had narrowed to the this slice of Thanos’s ship.To Gamora, struggling for breath. 

Quill watched Nebula, stood with her head bowed.He tried to get up, but one of his legs didn’t seem to be working.He looked down at it, saw his ankle twisted the wrong way. 

_Fuck._

A crackle came over the comms, and Quill lowered his head back to the ground, not wanting to draw Thanos’s attention before he had a plan.

"Is someone there?” Quill whispered.

“Hey, I’ve got your back, buddy,” it was a woman’s voice, unfamiliar, but strong. 

“Who-?” he started.“Where’s Iron Man, where’s Cap?”

“I had to draw in some reinforcements, they weren't easy to find,” and that voice was familiar.It was Doctor Strange, who was supposed to be watching Mantis. _Oh god, Mantis_.Did that mean she was-? 

“Cap and Iron Man are held up still, fighting, but they’ve tasked me with helping _you_ out,” the woman said.

Quill glanced around, lump rising in his throat as he saw Spider-Man’s cowl. _Where was the kid?_

“My name is Carol Danvers,” the woman over the comms said, “but you can call me Captain Marvel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that the next chapter will most likely be the final one, just to let you know!  
> As always, I love to hear your thoughts :)


	8. The Captain and The Mad Titan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! This has been a pleasure to write.

Steve looked down at his new shields with surprise, having just thwarted five aliens in the space of about two seconds.He longed to learn more about how Shuri had constructed them, and at such short notice, too. _These things sure pack a punch_. 

_As does Coulson, apparently_.  It had come as quite a shock that the somehow-living agent now wielded a robotic hand, complete with an energy shield that payed a striking resemblance to Cap’s old weapon.  Well, a shock was putting it mildly, but Steve had no time to dwell on it.

Coulson had given him a sheepish shrug when he’d deployed his shield, but considering how adept he was at using it, Steve had no complaints.  

“Nice work, Coulson,” Steve said, taking a second to assess the situation.  He wiped a smear of black goo from his beard.  The damned stuff got everywhere.

“Working like a dream, Cap,” Coulson replied.  Steve wondered if that was because of the surreal situation, or the fact they were fighting side by side.  Holding Coulson’s admiration was still an odd thing to come to terms with, seeing as the agent had lived far longer than Steve had.  He’d come back from death to live again, if the rumours were to be believed.

The two of them had managed to take out a substantial number of the insect-aliens, but their numbers were irritatingly huge, and proving a distraction from the real danger.  

The Mad Titan’s ship loomed above the city, and Steve had seen Star-Lord and Gamora take off towards it some time ago, but heard nothing from them since.

Given that Thanos wasn’t gloating, though, he had to assume they were still breathing.  It was that, or descend into panic.  

Steve glanced towards Bucky, partnered with Daisy, the pair having finally managed to vanquish one of Thanos’s Black Order.  Bucky gave him a tired smile, and a mock-salute, as Daisy said something that had him cracking into laughter.  Of course, he was finally laughing when the world was ending.  Typical, stubborn Bucky.  Not that he would agree with that assessment, of course.  Steve had been told on many an occasion that _he_ was the stubborn one.  The two quickly turned back to the fight, another wave of aliens approaching.  Daisy sent a quake out, and Bucky jumped into the carnage.     

The woman in the Order had put up a hell of a battle, and given all he’d seen Bucky do, the strain on his face as he fought her, even with the Daisy’s incredible help, worried him more than almost anything else going on.  They’d secured the woman, with Fury and Clint now dragging her off to be questioned, but Steve didn’t know how helpful it could be.  

Thanos had been untouchable, and the majority of them were stuck on the ground, dealing with the swarms that just kept coming.

Meanwhile, Tony was somewhere in the hull of Thanos’s ship with Spider-Man and Rhodey, trying to exploit its weaknesses.  Steve had called to him over the comms for a check in,  but was only getting static in return.    

The other Black Order members had Hulk, Ant-Man and most of the outer-space-crews occupied, and Thor’s location was discernible only by the thunder and lightning announcing his arrival.  He and Loki had pealed off from the group before they could be given comms, and Steve just hoped the Asgardians had more of a plan than they did.  

Steve was the tactician, empty-handed.  The Star-Spangled Man _without_ a plan, you could say.  Though even the stars weren’t with him anymore.  It had felt wrong to put Cap’s costume on, put that image out there, given all that had come to pass.  He was a wanderer now, a nomad, and the change in costume had changed his ideas, too.

If only he could _have_ some ideas, right now. They were running out of time.  The swarms just kept coming.  Steve had sent Sam to explore where they were coming from, but all he’d said was that closing the gate seemed impossible.   

A high-pitched noise whined through Steve’s earpiece, and then Tony’s voice was there.

“Sorry about that, Capsicle, the kid thought it would be a good idea to play his comm like a violin,” Tony sounded calm, jokey, but Steve knew it was most likely all a cover for his anxiety.  Steve could hear Spider-Man’s shout of ‘hey!’ in reply, heard Rhodey let out a tired sigh.  He knew that sigh, it was an _I’ve-been-in-Tony’s-presence-too-long_ sigh.  War Machine was a saint, that’s for sure.   

“What’s your status, Tony,” Steve replied, waving over Bucky and Daisy, moving to a place of reprieval. 

“Well, I’ve got a whole host of news for you, so listen up folks.  Barton, that means you too,” Tony said.  Clint was always tuning out the sound of comms information.  It had yielded some strange results in missions of the past.  Coulson smiled, recognising the habit.

“Aw, fuck you Tony,” Clint muttered over the comms.

“I love you too, Katniss. Okay, here’s the highlights.  Nebula has re-united with her darling daddy, the insect-aliens have a hive-mind, the gauntlet seems to have gained two Infinity Stones, and-“

“What colour are the stones?” It was the Valkyrie, her tone scornful.  

“Why, shopping for jewellery?” Tony retorted.

“Tone,” Rhodey warned him.  

“Red and purple.  Garish pairing, if you ask me,” Tony said.

“Because you look _real_ subtle,” Sam said.  Wilson and Tony had settled into a begrudging friendship, since the Accords.  Sarcasm was their love-language.  

“Purple is the Power Stone,” the Valkyrie stated, “I’m not sure about red.”

“Reality,” said Strange, sounding distracted.  The last Steve had heard, he was caring for one of the Guardians.  “The one Thor encountered in London.”

“Yikes,” Tony replied. 

“What is it?” The voice was Nat’s.  If there was anyone that would prompt Stark into making sense, it was the Widow.  

“Loki’s arrived, Thor in tow.  It looks like he’s injured,” Tony sounded baffled.

“I swear to Odin, if they’re doing ‘Get Help’” the Valkyrie said, angered.  

“What’s-“ Tony started. 

“I need to get up there,” Clint said.  “Cap, put me in sniper position.  Wilson, I could use a lift.”

“Negative, Barton, we don’t know the full story,” Steve replied.  

“If we wait much longer the full story will be Thanos obliterating us,” Nat said.  “Steve, you need to trust us with this.” 

“I agree,” T’Challa said, breathing laboured.  He and Okoye were evacuating civilians whilst also holding back the horde on the West Side.  Steve turned to Bucky, inquisitive, hoping for some clarity.  

“You gotta do this, Rogers,” he said, just loud enough for Steve to hear. “It’s just another bully come to Brooklyn.  You know what needs to happen.”

Steve took a deep breath, took the nods of agreement from Coulson as a good sign.  He and Daisy had done some impressive stuff, since Steve had last seen him.  Saving the world, that was just another day at the office for them.  

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Steve began, motions falling into place at long last.  “Ant-Man, can you hear me?”

 

***

 

“Steve!” Shuri yelled, running towards him, occasionally pausing to blast an alien with her gauntlets.She was accompanied by FitzSimmons and MJ, all of them looking expectantly at him.

“I’m slightly busy here, Shuri,” Steve replied, because now his plan was underway, there were a few kinks that needed to be worked out, and he had pulled back to a (relatively) quiet spot in order to do so.  He was pacing back and forth, trying to just _think_.  “Vision, Wanda, what’s your status?” 

“We’re approaching now, Mr. Rogers, start time imminent,” Vision replied. Steve halted for a second, satisfied, and Shuri seized the opportunity to grab his arm.  

“Listen to me, Steve, I have a plan,” the princess said, holding him in place.

“What is it?” Steve asked, sensing that unless he listened, she wasn’t going to leave.  

“Well, we were discussing Strange’s powers,” Shuri began.  “And we realised, well MJ did, it was awesome, honestly..”

“No, it was FitzSimmons,” MJ insisted, a blush creeping onto her face.  

“Whoever it was,” Simmons said, seeing Steve’s impatience, “We know how we can get some extra help.”

“I think every hero we’ve got is _here_ right now,” Steve said.  Barton had made a call earlier to recruit his ‘defending friends’ from Hell’s Kitchen and Harlem.  It was, according to Nat, a long story.  

“That’s just it,” Shuri said.  “Everyone is here _right now_. We don’t have to be constrained by time like that. Strange has the Time Stone, y’know?”

“What are you getting at?” Steve asked.

“Let’s just say that, when Black Widow leaked SHIELD’s files, we found some new players,” Fitz said, fiddling with his hands in a nervous motion.  Simmons put a comforting hand on his back.  

“Hold on a sec,” Steve said, clicking on his earpiece and relaying this information to the rest of the fighters. “Okay, Shuri, who’ve you got for me?” 

“Only Earth’s Mightiest Hero,” Shuri replied.  “An air force Colonel. MJ said she’s a friend of Rhodes.”

“Hell yeah,” Rhodey’s voice came over the comms, and he let out a laugh.  “Go get her, Strange.”  

Strange made a noise of agreement.  “Hear goes nothing,” he quipped. And then he was gone.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Rogers, but I do believe we’re making some progress here,” Vision suddenly proclaimed.

“Don’t be polite, Viz, I’m kicking their asses,” Wanda shouted, over the crackle of her magic. They were using her connection to Vision’s Mind Stone to target the alien’s hive-mind, and mercifully, it appeared to be working.  Steve looked out at the masses, saw the faltering step of the aliens as they struggled against their new directives.

“Don’t push it too hard, Wanda,” Steve said.  She still had trouble keeping track of her limits.  

“Lighten up, Steve, we’ve got this,” Wanda replied, confident, and _shit_ , how long Steve has waited to hear her get to that place.  Self-assured and Avenging. Gradually, the aliens began to succumb to Wanda’s influence.  At first it was a stuttering halt, but then they were freezing completely in their places, and in a wave that emanated from Wanda’s position, they fell to the ground, still, that horrific black goo flowing from their mouths.  

“Nice one, _Sabrina_ ,” Tony said, sounding impressed.  “Looks like our teen witch graduated from Hogwarts.”

“You’re welcome, Stark,” Wanda replied. “And you’re mixing your references.”  Steve could just imagine her eye-roll at Stark’s nickname. He had joined her in watching the _Sabrina, the Teenage Witch_ sitcom, though, so he supposed she wasn’t too offended by it.  The Avengers compound would be getting a black cat any day now, he was sure of it. 

A strike of lightning rattling Thanos’s ship disrupted the thought.  “Clint, what’s going on up there?” Steve asked the archer, who was now in position as sniper. 

“It’s bad, Cap,” this was from Spider-Man, who was still encamped in the ship’s hull.  Steve could see Tony and Rhodey emerge from the ship, flying up to see what was happening above-deck.

“Clint?” Steve said again.  “Hawkeye, can you hear me?”

“Barton, answer your fucking comms,” Nat said, voice heavy.  There was a crackle as something was murmured over the frequency, but Steve couldn’t make it out.

“Did anyone get that?” Steve asked.  No one was able to clarify the message for him.

“Come on Barton,” Coulson muttered.  “You haven’t finished shouting at me for being alive yet.”  There was another crackle, and then a word came across.

“Run,” Clint said.  Suddenly, a tremendous scream that rattled the earth erupted from the ship, accompanied by a roil of thunder like one of Daisy’s mighty quakes.  Static electricity crawled over Steve’s arms, and he made to run in the direction of the ship.  Bucky held him back.  Lightning was flashing in every direction, illuminating Thanos’s ship as if from within.

“Hang on there, pal,” Bucky said. “We don’t need you getting fried.”  

“I’m going up there,” Peter Parker declared from inside the ship.   There were a chorus of ‘NO’s’ over the comms, but Spider-Man didn’t reply.  Tony and Rhodey were swooping over the deck, but the lightning meant they had no clear views of what was going on.  

“I can see Hawkeye,” Spidey said moments later, voice strained.  “Gamora and Star-Lord are here too, they’re being held back by something.”  

“It’s the fuckin’ Power Stone,” this, unexpectedly, came from Rocket, who had been uncharacteristically quiet up until now. “Using that thing against us, after all we did for it.”

“That’s why we can’t hear them, Thanos is intercepting the comms,” Steve realised.

“Oh, god,” Parker whispered, sounding nauseated.  

“Kid, what is it?” Tony asked, frantic.

“It’s Thor,” Peter replied.  “His arm…Thanos tore off his arm to get at the Stone.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Steve breathed.

“Thanos, he’s got the Space Stone,” Clint said, voice breaking over the wavering connection.  “And we all know what the Tesseract was capable of.”

“And that was by itself,” Coulson said, rubbing a hand over his chest, the spot the Sceptre had pierced.

A great bolt of lightning struck the city in the distance, and Wanda cried out.  

“Wanda, are you okay?” Nat asked.

“It’s Vision,” she replied, her voice rising in a frenzy.  “They’ve taken him.  The lightning was a cover.  I was recharging, distracted, I couldn’t do anything to stop it.” 

“That’s another Stone,” Coulson said.

_Double fuck._

 

***

 

Dr. Strange had had weirder days, he was certain.This one came pretty close to the top spot, though.After a jaunt through the 1990’s, he was accompanying Carol Danvers back to present day, where an intergalactic space battle awaited them.

The city was a different place to that which Strange had left.  In the evening light, carcasses of the insect-aliens littered every road, and Thanos’s ship loomed above it all. 

Cap and Tony were stood huddled in front of the gathered Avengers.  Strange and Carol approached them.  Rhodey grabbed Carol in a mighty hug before she had the chance to introduce herself to the rest of the assembled heroes.  Meanwhile, Strange filled them in on what Carol needed.

“T’Challa, is the city evacuated?” Strange asked the king.

“Yes, Doctor,” T’Challa replied.

“Is it possible to have access to Wakanda?” Carol said, having extracted herself from Rhodey’s grasp.  She kept a hand on his arm, though.

“Of course,” T’Challa said, looking to Nakia, who gave him an encouraging smile.  

“Fantastic,” Strange said, and with barely a motion, he and the assembled heroes had vanished.  

Carol stood alone, a laugh rising in her throat.  Strange re-appeared moments later.  “The Black Order have been relocated to Wakanda, along with the team,” he said, giving her an earpiece which she clicked into place.   

“Is someone there?” A man asked.  Quill, she’d been told.   

“Hey, I’ve got your back, buddy,” Carol said. 

“Who-?” he started.  “Where’s Iron Man, where’s Cap?”

“I had to draw in some reinforcements,” Strange explained.  

“Cap and Iron Man are held up still, fighting, but they’ve tasked me with helping _you_ out,” Carol said.  “My name is Carol Danvers, but you can call me Captain Marvel.”

 

***

 

Steve was beginning to wonder whether they’d simply abandoned the fight.The Black Order had been subdued with relative ease now they were the team’s sole focus, but still they waited for Thanos to re-appear. _Come on, Carol._

As if summoned by the thought, there was a sound like a thunderclap, and Strange appeared from the darkness with Carol.  Thor, Clint, Gamora and Parker trailed behind them.  The wounded were ushered towards the medical staff T’Challa had called forth from the city.  Wanda ran towards an unconscious Vision, being carried by Carol, and Stark burst forward, grabbing Parker in a hug that had the kid’s eyes opened wide in surprise.  

“The ship is down,” Carol said, setting Vision onto a stretcher besides Wanda, “but Thanos is still coming, and he still has Quill, as we'd planned.”

“I’ve got him delayed in an empty pocket of space-time, but he’ll be here any minute now,” Strange added.

“That doesn’t solve the issue of the Infinity Stones,” T’Challa said.

“Ah, brother, always a step behind,” Shuri said.  At her words, Ant-Man materialised from Carol’s shoulder, settling on the ground at his normal height.

Scott opened his palm, revealing the Infinity Stones gathered and glistening.  

“You planned a heist against a psychopathic Titan?” Stark said.

“No,” Shuri replied, “that was all Steve.”

Hijacking the Raft after the Sokovia Accords had given Steve a taste for the elegance of heists.  _Just one more reason I shouldn’t be going by Cap anymore_.

“I just did some stealing,” Scott said, nonchalant.  

“He’s got a criminal record, y’know,” Shuri said.

“We should probably get those somewhere safe,” Maria said, approaching Scott with caution.  

A rumble announced Thanos’s appearance.  He stood in the distance, Nebula at his side, Quill and Loki still his captives.  

“Your call, Captain,” T’Challa said.  

All faces turned towards Steve and Carol.  Steve looked at Tony, who made a ’carry on’ kind of gesture.  Steve turned to face Carol, clicking his shields into place.  

“I don’t go by Captain anymore," Steve said.  "I think you should take this one, Danvers.” 

“If you say so,” Carol smiled.

“Avengers-“ Steve began.

They stood there, Avengers, Guardians. Heroes, in some ways. Winners, it still remained to be seen. And under the Wakandan moon, they glowed in shades of royalty.

“-Assemble.” Carol commanded.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've left this a bit ambiguous, but I never actually envisioned writing the battle at all, so I thought that by leaving it here I prevent myself from doing a bad job of it haha!
> 
> Hope you've enjoyed, thanks for reading!  
> As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts :)


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